


little truth

by starblessed



Category: Anastasia (1997), Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 21:17:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13749414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starblessed/pseuds/starblessed
Summary: She wondered exactly how much Dmitry would give up for her if she asked. A part of her was scared to find out; another part of her, desperate and starving, wanted more than he could ever give.She knew he could never give her the one thing she wanted most.





	little truth

She realized it long before that moment; it dawned on her in subtle flashes, seconds where the truth was crystal clear, then gone just as quickly in the next. She would see the warmth in his eyes when he glanced at her, or notice the way he smiled when he thought she wasn’t looking. Many years living on the streets had taught Anya not to miss much. She picked up on details better then the big picture, sometimes, but she was _observant._

Some nights, during the agonizing process of learning everything there was to know about Anastasia (all information that seemed so familiar to her, yet unbearably distant — like trying to punch her fists through walls of ice to get to the memories locked behind them), Anya would stay up into the early hours studying. Dmitry joined her something, hunching together in the candlelight, practicing facts and recitations, family trees and memories. Sometimes, their shoulders brushed, and Anya’s breath caught in her throat.

When they were walking to France on foot, the snow seeping into their exhausted limbs, she began to shiver. She hadn’t meant for anyone to see, but Dmitry did; and just like that, he snatched up her hands and held them to keep them warm. He didn’t say anything, hardly even looked at her. He just pressed her hands between his own two freezing ones, and they shared the heat of each others’ skins.

During the first exhilarating rush of discovering Paris for the first time, Anya couldn’t help peering into every shop window she saw. This was a world like nothing she remembered ever seeing before, full of bright colors and lavish trinkets, fancies never dreamed of in Russia. She had her hands pressed to the glass of a candy store window, practically drooling over the delicacies within, when Dmitry slipped out the shop door. He had a tiny box in his hand; he opened it to reveal a sweet little raspberry creme tart. When Anya gasped, he just murmured something about her needing to put some meat on red bones before meeting the Empress, and refused to look her in the eye. (When she insisted on sharing the tart, however, he gave her a real grin.)

Still, it wasn’t until he dropped to his knee in front of her that Anya _realized._

_He really would do anything for her._

The thought should have been exhilarating. Instead, it hit her like a stab to the stomach. His bowed head was the dagger piercing her abdomen; the closed-off deference in his hidden face twisted the handle. She longed for nothing more than to kneel before him as well, to force his head up and make him look at her. Instead, she was paralyzed.

She remembered him. She remembered. _He_ was the one who gave her that. Dmitry gave her the greatest things she could ever ask for: her past. Her name. Someone who loved her.

She didn’t want his deference. She didn’t want his loyalty. She didn’t want him to sacrifice his happiness for hers.

The only thing she wanted from Dmitry was _himself._

And that was the one thing he could not give her.

**Author's Note:**

> i love the progression of dmitry and anya's relationship, leading into casual comfort and closeness -- until that realization at the end of 'a crowd of thousands'. it's such a subtle moment, but it really hits you in the gut when they both realize that they can't be together because anya is a princess.


End file.
